Savage Divinity

As the steady hoof-beats fade into the distance, I force myself to breathe and tell myself this is for the best.

Dad knows what he’s doing. If I were there with him, I’d only be a burden and distraction. Here, I’m safe in Taduk’s garden and Dad is free to act without having to worry about keeping his crippled son safe. Nor should I worry about his safety, because he’s the Bloody Fanged Wolf, Baatar of the People, a powerful Peak Expert in his own right, and the Imperials will pay a bloody price for underestimating his strength. Sure, I’ve never actually seen him fight seriously with my own eyes, but I’ve heard stories, and anyone trained by Akanai must be a force to be reckoned with. Even Nian Zu, a Living Legend and Hero of the Wall, acknowledges Dad’s strength and skills, so he’s probably pretty high up there when it comes to ranking Martial Warriors.

I just hope it’ll be enough. Strength is nice and all, but a dagger in the dark kills Martial Warriors almost as easily as it kills civilians.

Instead of offering banal platitudes or empty reassurances, Lin-Lin simply hugs me from behind while I sit on the ground, clutching me close like a calming, weighted blanket. She knows any attempts to mitigate my anxiety needs to be backed by facts and information, or else it makes things worse as I focus on coming up with arguments as to why things won’t necessarily ‘be all right’. But they will be all right. For sure. Nothing to worry about. The Imperial assassins probably won’t even attack once they notice Ping Ping and the Death Corps aren’t a part of the convoy. They’re all sitting outside the grove being Concealed by Guard Leader’s veiled underlings, so I’m sure someone on the opposing team will stop and wonder why the carriage convoy would waste Chi Concealing the Guardian Turtle and a few wagons filled with Death Corps. I mean yea, Guan Suo did it often enough, but he’s an Ancestral Beast with plenty of Chi to spare, or so I’d assume, so I doubt regular Peak Experts would have such an easy go of it. Concealing on the move is harder as well, especially at the speeds the convoy will be travelling at, so it’s entirely possible our competent enemies see through Dad’s ruse and let him by without attacking.

Which is... good news, I guess, if you ignore the fact that there will be assassins waiting for me when I ride home in a few hours from now. Maybe I should just stay here forever. ‘Sorry Legate, can’t go to the banquet, too many assassins blocking the way’. Yes, this could work. It’d force him to protect me, right? Or abandon me completely. Ugh. I hate politics.

Sensing my inner turmoil, Lin-Lin leans closer and presses her cheek against mine, though she might just be trying to get a better look at the chubby chonker nestled in my embrace. Glancing down at my new furry friend, my heart breaks to see the bucktoothed baby in such distress, swaddled in a clean quilt yet still trembling with fright. Having gone limp and catatonic after a brief struggle, the groundhog lays prone in my arms with a distant, far-off look in his eyes, the look of a creature resigned to his fate. It’s not despair or hopelessness, but utter indifference as he waits for the sweet relief of death, and no amount of gentle scritches or tasty treats can snap him out of it.

Poor thing. I hope his heart doesn’t give out from terror. It’s okay cutie. I’m not gonna hurt you.

“Hubby,” Lin-Lin whispers, her voice filled with concern. “Maybe we should let him go, ya?”

“...Yea, maybe.” Seeing Taduk ready to object, I add, “Not here and not now, of course. Later, somewhere far away from the garden. Far, far, far away.” Sorry little guy. It’s this or the chopping block for you my friend, because you stole from the wrong half-hare. Rocking him from side to side like a furry little baby, I silently pray he learns to overcome his fear and aversion to humans like Mama Bun eventually did, because I’m already enamoured by his chubby cheeks and oh so boopable snoot. His dense, silky floof is another plus, and while he’s not as soft as Mama Bun, he’s the perfect size to carry around, small enough to hold with one arm, yet large enough to comfortably nestle in both. Besides, another Elemental-Blessed pet would be awesome, especially if he can serve as an early warning system for those stupid mole-rat Demons. Ping Ping and Pong Pong are Water-Blessed, but they were pretty much worthless against the Defiled and Pudge in particular. What I need to do is add variety to my floofs with Awakenings, lest I be accused of being racist or something, and an Earth-Blessed ground squirrel would tick so many boxes on the diversity checklist.

...Hang on. “Why is he so weak?”

“Hmm?”

At Lin-Lin’s nonverbal prompting, I explain, “This little guy has gotta be Earth-Blessed, right? How else could he shift dirt around like he did? If that’s the case, then why is he so weak? I thought the Blessing of Earth came with super strength?”

“That’s not how it works, silly.” Instead of answering herself, Lin-Lin looks to Taduk, but he’s too busy keeping watch on his seeds even though the culprit has already been caught. Unwilling to bother him, my wifey leans back to look around him and says, “Mmm.... it’s better if you explain, ya?”

“Not all Blessings are identical.” Even though I knew she was lurking nearby, I still flinch upon hearing Guard Leader’s voice come out of nowhere. Following Lin-Lin’s gaze, I find the veiled woman sitting cross-legged with hands folded neatly in her lap, far enough from my teacher for the sake of propriety, but close enough that she could have theoretically just shifted over a bit before dropping her Concealment. “Much like the Forms, the Awakenings are a guideline on how to use one’s Blessing, and different individuals can arrive at vastly different conclusions. Increased physical strength is but one facet of the Blessing of Earth, one this rodent no doubt failed to grasp.” Shrugging, she adds, “It is also possible that it has an Auxiliary or Esoteric Blessing which allows it to manipulate earth, or even no Blessing at all and is simply relying on a Talent of some sort. The mysteries of the Dao are infinite and the mind of a rodent incomprehensible, so it is pointless to try and understand how or why it does what it does.”

Guard Leader was a lot nicer to Mama Bun, which makes me think there’s some form of floof discrimination going on here. Maybe there’s a pair of floppy bunny ears hiding underneath that veil, though I’m still not entirely sure if Guard Leader is a strong half-beast or a de-facto Ancestral Beast. I’m hoping it’s the latter, because I’ve been feeling a little exposed ever since I learned I had three Divinities watching my back all through Sinuji, and I still almost died multiple times. Seriously though... maybe Guard Leader is a bicorn bunny Ancestral Beast. If so, then I bet she’s freaking adorable, with big, round eyes and a cute, dainty nose. That’s probably why she wears the veil, because no one would take her seriously without it.

Wisely not pressing the pet discrimination issue, I consider Guard Leader’s explanation for a moment and decide it makes sense. I mean, Mole-Rat Lady was raising waves of dirt, but Eccentric Gam uses his Blessing in a different way. Rather than directly manipulating dirt, he Amplifies physical force to send Reverberations through the ground and create localized, miniature earth-quakes. It could just be a power limitation which keeps him from imitating Mole-Rat Lady, but it could also be a matter of lacking comprehension holding him back. This might also be why I had no success with making water bullets and water shields like Elder Ming or water tentacles and water spears like Pudge, because I don’t have the right... software, I guess. I can probably do other things with Water Chi that they can’t, like... make Chi Tea, I guess.

With my luck, my Blessing of Water will allow me to summon a light drizzle and inconvenience my enemies by forcing them to fight whilst mildly damp. Such intimidate. Much horror.

If the Martial Dao were a puzzle, this would be yet another few pieces which fit together, except I don’t know where this particular cluster is supposed to fit in the overall picture, or even what the final product is supposed to look like. Talking things out with a group of Peak Experts did not solve my problems as I hoped they would, because it turns out the blind aren’t great at teaching other blind people to see, so we all need to find our own ways of navigating the Dao. Me, I like to rush around and crash into things face first at reckless speeds because I hate myself, but that’s no longer a viable option. I need to find myself a walking stick, guide dog, or even a lifeline from the Heavens, anything to get me back on the right track, because stumbling around in the dark isn’t getting me anywhere.

Time is running out. Dad was prepared for Imperial aggression this time around, but what about next time? Or the time after? I can’t expect my family to keep blocking bullets while I flounder about in the open, else it’s only a matter of time before one of them gets hurt. Then there’s all the non-familial members of the People who are working hard to keep me safe, most of whom are nowhere near as strong as my father or grandmother, nor are they as enthusiastic about it either. Stifling a sigh, I crack a wry smile at Guard Leader and say, “I guess you were right. I bring nothing but trouble.”

“I stand by my statement,” Guard Leader replies, as frank and forthright as always. “This conflict in particular, however, is not your doing. You exhibited your skills and won great glory for the People, but noble hearts are fickle and their gratitude short-lived. They seek to use your life and death as political currency, but they will soon learn that the People look after their own.”

...The People look after their own. She means me. I’m one of the People.

My throat closes up as an invisible weight lifts off my shoulders, and I clutch the catatonic groundhog a little closer to my chest. Even though my close brush with exile is now water under the bridge, Guard Leader’s acknowledgement has parted the last dark clouds hanging over my head, and now the sun is shining brightly once again. It’s silly, because the People have never treated me differently, not by much. I don’t interact with many people, but that’s because I’m a socially awkward recluse. They call me foundling, but to them, it’s no different from referring to someone as the baker’s son or the blacksmith’s daughter, with no malice or hatred in the moniker, only a statement of fact. Even then, when I was crippled and sent off to the front lines to die, thousands of Sentinels came out to ride at my side and bring me home safe, each one ready to lay their lives down to protect or avenge me. I’ve long since accepted that my near exile came from a place of logic and reason rather than a personal dislike of me in particular, but...

This is the first time since then that someone outside my friends and family has acknowledged me as one of the People. It’s... nice.

“Thanks.” Burying my face in the groundhog’s borrowed quilt, I try to will away the tears threatening to spill out of my eyes. Regardless of what Lin-Lin thinks, I cry too much. I’m a grown ass man, so I can’t be crying all the time. It’s embarrassing. God, I can’t believe I cried while telling all of Sinuji about how I met Gen and Qing-Qing, then cried again when talking about it with Dastan. What was I thinking, bawling in plain view of thousands of soldiers? Ugh, what if they want me to tell the story again at the banquet? I can’t say no, but there’s no way I get through it without crying again. I can’t help it, the only way not to cry all the time is to ignore my emotions, but once I start talking about them, there’s no holding back.

Still, it’s nice to know Guard Leader thinks of me as one of the People, especially since she was the one pushing to have me exiled to begin with. I’m a troublemaker, but I’m the People’s troublemaker. Having weathered through this touching moment with minimal ocular leakage, I nuzzle the groundhog and use his quilt to dry my tears and hide my shame, even though I’m pretty sure my sniffles have given the game away. “Hey little guy,” I say, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside from this unexpected sense of belonging. “I know you’re scared, so I’ll let you go when it’s safe, but if you wanna stay, I promise I’ll love you and feed you like all my other floofs.”

Aside from breathing a little faster due to the unwelcome attention, there’s no change in the catatonic chonker’s behaviour, so I settle in with a sigh and, for the umpteenth time, wish I could still use Aura. The special Aura, with all the emotions, not just courage and fear. It was so useful for charming pets, I started making a whole Keystone for it, but that didn’t last long since I shattered my Core soon after. I was banking on my Natal Palace memory hacks to keep everything straight, but now I don’t remember the right colours anymore. Dark blue for contempt, I know that much. Oh and sickly greenish-yellow for my bitter hatred towards this world, won’t ever forget that. Love was warm pink, but there were so many different shades, and I can’t remember the difference between friendly, floofy pink and ‘wanna make sweet love to you’ pink.

As Sir Ink-a-lot taught me, it’s best to be specific.

Whatever. Not like it matters, I can’t use Aura anyways, so it’s all a moot point. Still, I might as well introduce the groundhog to the rest of my floofs and let him see how they live, as well as feel that warm pink-tinted emotions for myself once more. Who knows, maybe the dirt-rat is as smart as Pong Pong and will decide it’s not so bad being one of my pets, or I’ll miraculously accidentally use my Aura again.

...Sorry about calling you a dirt-rat, but I’m trying not to get too attached. I’m no good at goodbyes. Besides, ground-hog isn’t much of an improvement over dirt-rat. Just saying. You ain’t perfect.

With Lin-Lin at my side, I bring our furry guest over to meet the wildcats, because I figure it’s best to get this out of the way first. Aurie is sweet and welcoming as always, if a tad over-enthusiastic with his greeting nuzzles, while Sarankho cocks her head and slowly lifts a paw as if readying to strike the groundhog down. Shaking my head, I admonish “Friend, not food.” Settling back on her haunches with an unladylike huff, Sarankho loses interest as I hold the groundhog up to see her, which is good because I doubt he’d enjoy the extra attention. Jimjam is the most difficult to win over, his lip curling in a snarl even before I approach him, because he recognizes the intruder who evaded capture for so long. “Yes, you’re my smart guard floof,” I croon, lowering my head for him to butt against while keeping our guest safe from harm. “You knew this little guy was there stealing seeds and you tried to keep Teacher’s plants safe. Such a good Jimjam.” Although the wildcat doesn’t exactly glow with praise, he puffs up and is slightly less standoffish than usual, even permitting me to tousle of his ears without glaring in anger.

He’s got a big attitude, but I still love him to bits. Don’t worry groundhog, Jimjam’s harmless. He acts like a big bad predator, but he’s never hurt any of the bunnies, not even dumb George who keeps trying to climb in his mouth.

Next we head over to visit the bears, who are even less threatening than the wildcats. Neither Banjo nor Baloo have ever killed anything bigger than a bug, so they’re just big, lovable goofballs who are great for cuddles. You don’t need to worry about getting stepped on either, because they’re super careful and would sooner suffer in silence than disturb a sleeping bunbun. Banjo ignores our little guest, and instead tries to clamber onto my shoulders, which is actually almost doable if he Lightens for all he’s got now that I’m no longer a frail cripple. Unfortunately, Banjo doesn’t have a lot of Chi and can only sustain maximum Lightening for a few minutes, as I learned to my grave detriment. While fending off his wickedly sharp claws, I give Banjo a kiss on the head and let the groundhog get a good whiff of bear, hoping to get some reaction from the little guy even if it’s only fear. It’s okay if he’s afraid, because when nothing bad happens, he’ll learn there’s nothing to be afraid of, but as things stand, he’s so terrified I’m not even sure if he’s registering what’s happening here.

Baloo is more interested in our guest than his brother is, and the sweet bear gives the groundhog a good, thorough sniffing before reclining back on the dirt to show his belly. It’s not exactly a sign of submission like it would be if he were a dog, but more of an invitation to play. Mother knows the bunnies love to jump on Baloo’s belly, so I guess he’s seeing if the groundhog wants to as well, but alas, our little guest doesn’t respond and the sweet bear soon loses interest.

“See little guy?” I whisper, rocking the groundhog back and forth to soothe his frayed nerves while trying to will my Aura into existence. “Nothing to be afraid of. C’mon, let’s go meet the bunnies now. They’re probably more your speed anyways.”

...No dice on the Aura thing, but maybe he gets it.

Heading over to bunbun jail, my long-eared hoppy floofs promptly and zealously respond to my buck-toothed buddy, but not in the friendly manner I’d hoped. Sensing the arrival of a new challenger, the bunnies collectively thump the ground in a frantic rage before bursting through the woefully inadequate enclosure and launching themselves head-first at the groundhog, no doubt seeking to stun and beat him to death so he can’t steal their food. The response is ingrained into their DNA, a part of who they are even though they’re all bourgeois bunnies who’ve never known life on the streets. Problem is, this means they also don’t have the best of aim, so my arms, stomach, and even my crotch bears the brunt of this bunny barrage, and it’s all I can do to remain standing instead of curling up into a ball to cry.

Curse you George. Curse you and your terrible aim!

Thankfully, while Lin-Lin is doubled over with laughter and too busy to help, sweet Mama Bun comes to my rescue and headbutts her children away, which is easy because she’s like twice their size. By the time I’ve caught my breath, the battle is over and the bunbuns are all thoroughly cowed, though most have forgotten all about what just happened and are hopping over to inspect Taduk’s garden. While my teacher and Lin-Lin run around to collect the heartless, long-eared bastards, I stoop down to thank Mama Bun with a pat and a kiss. “Good girl.” Already standing on her hind legs, Mama Bun paws at my arm in hopes of a snuggle, and even though I’m worried about how the groundhog will react, the big bunny has shown she knows how to behave. Freeing up one arm for Mama Bun, she hops into my embrace and wiggles about in search of a comfy position, but with the groundhog taking up half the real estate, there isn’t much room to work with, so she ends up sort of lying on her back while propped up horizontally with my hand supporting her haunches, which doesn’t look comfy at all. Grumbling to voice her discontent, she looks over at the guest I took several crotch shots to protect and, after a moment of careful consideration, promptly boots him out of my arms, quilt and all.

Which was exactly the opening he was waiting for.

Slipping out of the quilt, the groundhog dives headfirst into the dirt and sinks in deep as if it were a pool of water rather than solid ground, slowing his escape for only half a second to wiggle his fat butt through. Then, the dirt tunnel seals itself up behind him, and the only sign he was ever here is his discarded quilt, still gently wafting down to the ground before landing softly in a crumpled mess.

Well... bye, I guess. Be free little friend. I’ll miss you.

Judging by his wailing cry, Taduk is less than pleased to see the groundhog escape, but Lin-Lin takes it all in stride. “Don’t worry hubby,” she says, smiling as she cuddles the four bunnies nestled in her arms with their legs dangling below them. “The bun-buns are cuter anyways, ya?”

“Yea, I guess.” It wasn’t about cuteness though, or at least not all about cuteness. Floof diversity is important, and powerful animals protecting me is kinda super awesome. After helping Taduk catch the rest of the bunnies, I leave them with Baloo and Jimjam to babysit before going to check on Sir Inky’s cooking pot. “Sorry guys, our new friend got away before I could introduce you,” I say, peering in at the octopus and turtle just chilling in the water. I’m not gonna lie, I squealed like a schoolgirl upon learning Pong Pong and Sir Inky are the best of friends, but it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. I mean, Sir Inky had that rock covered in Spiritual Algae, and the only way he could’ve gotten it is if he nicked it from Pong Pong’s lair, and I can only imagine how that exchange went down. Regardless of how it happened, the two are thick as thieves and happy to share the same space, even if it’s as small and cramped as the cooking pot I used this morning to make my delicious and underappreciated noodles.

It’s fine. I cleaned it first.

Reaching in to give Sir Inky a scritch, I sigh and look at Pong Pong floating there without a care in the world. “Would it have killed you to be a little more proactive and welcoming?” I ask, and the little turtle looks up as if he can read my tone and is none too pleased by the accusation. For all I know, he can, but it’s hard to say. Turtles don’t really have many expressions, though it’s still more than I can say for bunnies, who have resting grump face. “You’ve got an Aura, so I don’t see why you couldn’t tell the groundhog about how awesome it is to be a pet.”

Taduk’s fake coughing catches my attention and I look up to see him attempting to covertly signal me to do something, but I cannot for the life of me figure out what. Shaking his head means no, I get that much, but what does a sideways peace sign jabbing into his heart mean? Now he’s.. buffing his nails? No, he’s clenching his hands in frustration, which isn’t a message per se, just the result of me not understanding his other signs.

“Enough,” Guard Leader chimes in, breaking the awkward, silent dialogue between me and my teacher. “I am not so fragile as to break down from a mere reminder of the little turtle’s fearsome prowess.”

...Oh, Taduk wanted me to change the subject and stop talking about Pong Pong’s Aura. Considering she’s still stuck to Taduk’s side, it seems like Guard Leader still hasn’t fully recovered from her brush with bleak despair and crippling depression, which is totally reasonable now that I think about it. Once you fall into that particular pit, it isn’t easy to pull yourself out, even if you’re lucky enough to have the love and support of family and friends to help you up.

Believe me. I know.

With the rabbits all in check, I head back to my teacher’s side, but this time I take a seat beside Guard Leader instead. Not because I think she wants me close by, but because Taduk’s not the only person she cares about. There’s Lin-Lin too, else Guard Leader wouldn’t be her... leader of guards. I guess. I’m not entirely sure why, or what their relationship is, and it’s not my place to pry, so I sit with my sweet wifey clinging to my back and adorable Mama Bun in my arms to wait for the rest of my beloved betrotheds to finish meditating in the grove.

Song too. I gotta stop including her along with the rest of the girls. That won’t end well.

...I’m also waiting for my sister, mother, and grandmother too, can’t forget them or they’ll be upset.

...andddd now I have nothing to keep me busy anymore, so it’s back to worrying about Dad. “Do you know how the convoy is faring?”

“They’ve dispatched one group of assassins,” Guard Leader replies, and my breath catches in my throat before she adds, “No casualties. Your brother spotted the ambush well in advance and feathered them with arrows before they could act.”

“Good, good.” Swelling up with pride, I glance over towards where Alsantset sits in quiet meditation, knowing she’ll want to hear about her heroic husband’s exploits. I just hope the news will still be good when she’s finally done meditating. More out of a nervous need to fill the silence than anything else, I say, “Charok is kind and soft-spoken, but he’s as tough as any of the People, and doubly so when his family is in danger. Remember how he was in those days after the Society contest? That was the first time I...”

While I wax on about my brother’s exploits, Taduk, Lin-Lin, and Guard Leader all listen in silence, no doubt sensing I need to get this off my chest. Around ten or fifteen minutes later, as my tale is winding down, Guard Leader informs us that Baatar uncovered a second group of assassins who were also summarily dispatched, though this time there are a few injuries. Nothing serious, Guard Leader assures me, all easily Healed using Panacea before they arrive back at the citadel. Unable to sit still I shift my sleepy wifey over to Guard Leader’s shoulder and set to pacing about, telling random stories that come to mind so I don’t have time to dwell on my thoughts.

Halfway through my rendition of how I found Banjo and Baloo, Song slips back into the garden and takes a seat by the wildcats, still lost in her thoughts despite ending her meditation session short. So not to distract her, I lower my voice and continue the tale, eventually moving onto another happy story regarding the Laughing Birds and their first meal of danger noodles.

Time crawls by as I tell story after story, with only short pauses in between as Guard Leader keeps us up to date with Baatar’s progress home. By the time they make it back, my back is drenched in cold sweat, as each successive ambush turns out worse than the last. Thankfully, no one dies and everyone makes it back okay, but before I have time to feel relieved, I realize the severity of our situation. Five ambushes, five Supreme Families, including the Legate’s. Guess going to him for help will be utterly useless, but I’ll swallow my pride and try anyways, unless Luo-Luo thinks it’s best not to.

Lines are being drawn in the sand now, and I will remember and redress these grievances. Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but someday.

...

You know, assuming I survive the trip to the Central Citadel and back.

...

And actually figure out my Dao and become awesome again.

...

Then somehow miraculously Shatter the Void and become a true Divinity, because anything short of that probably isn’t strong enough to go against the Empire. If that happens, then... the Five Supreme Families should watch out.

...

Fuck it. I should just give up the warrior’s life and collect more powerful floofs to protect me. I can pick up some adorable bear-cat binturongs to start, because they were pretty murdery and territorial to boot. Red Pandas for sure as well, because they’re so damned cute, but I bet they’re different here and are also grouchy and carnivorous. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me if the locals in Ping Yao called them ‘the wolves of the trees’ or something equally ominous, but I’ve held off on looking into it because I didn’t really want to ruin it.

Also I should also get a dog, because it’s weird that I don’t have one yet. Dogs are awesome. Wolf is okay too, but dogs are better.

That’s my Dao, it’s gotta be. The Dao of the Floof Master. I’ll be the very best, like no one ever was. Forget being a Martial Warrior or figuring out my Elemental Blessing, I just want my Aura back so I can collect fluffy friends again. Please Mother in Heaven, make it so...

Chapter Meme